Drag Queens Are Bringing Families Together at Public Libraries Across the U.S.

I knew the Seattle Public Library was up to something special a few years ago when the staff produced a drag show tribute to banned books. Not long after, librarians staged a queer performance art tribute to Shakespeare. And over the last few years, they’ve been hosting Drag Queen Story Time — not simply for the novelty of seeing queens holding picture books, but to foster inclusion, understanding, and connection between families.

Seattle isn’t alone with this queering of the stacks. Libraries around the world have been inviting drag queens to read to children; but as the popularity of such programs grow, so too has homophobic backlash. From national anti-LGBTQ+ groups to ranting radio hosts, local literacy programs now find themselves in the crosshairs of regressive bigots.

Seattle librarian Jared Mills helped to create the library’s drag queen story time, and started working with local performers in 2012.

“It came out of a community need I was hearing from parents about their kids being bullied for ... not fitting into rigid gender stereotypes,” says Mills. Working with colleagues, they created a curriculum rooted in acceptance and kindness, collaborating with family-focused Pride events.

“We’re really bringing it back to the core mission of libraries,” Mills says, “to serve the communities we’re embedded in.”

Mills started their career as a children’s librarian 15 years ago, with a focus on early literacy. (At this point in our interview, they were momentarily interrupted by a child seeking a book.) “As a creative queer person, it was hard being a children’s librarian at first,” they continued. “When I took over storytime, some people stopped bringing their kids, because here’s this queer, gender-nonconforming children’s librarian, and they wanted the traditional librarian.”

Rather than minimize queer content, Mills — who also performs in drag as Old Witch — decided to capitalize on their unique skills, encouraging glittery craft activities and switching up pronouns in stories. After an initial dip in attendance, their storytime hours were soon standing-room only.

It was clear that there was an appetite for more LGBTQ-inclusive library activities.

It’s one thing to organize queer library events in freewheeling Seattle; other cities may present a more challenging atmosphere. Bicoastal drag queen Lil Miss Hot Mess helped establish Drag Queen Story Hour in New York and is now working on expanding the program with guidelines and tips for anyone who wants to follow their lead: “What kind of venue to work with, how to promote your event,” she explains. “Sometimes librarians might not know what to expect with drag queens — simple things like getting drag queens to think about costumes that are appropriate for children.”

Protecting such programs can be exhausting, but Mills has advice for librarians who need help justifying the presence of drag queens in libraries. “We do surveys afterwards,” says Mills. Their questionnaires for guardians include, “how much did this increase your knowledge? Do you feel that you’re better [able] to explain to your child about gender nonconformity, or a family with two moms?”

One recent survey showed 90 percent of attendees reported that drag queen story events provided opportunities for families to connect — opportunities that they wouldn’t have otherwise had.

When making the case for drag queen and LGBTQ-inclusive storytime events, “gather the data,” Mills urges. “Make sure you have quantitative measurements of the demographics of the community… so you can say, ‘we have this many gay-identifying individuals in our service area.’ Look at statistics on bullying nationally, and if you can find it, locally. Fortunately, librarians are information experts, so they’re good at that kind of thing.”

Building on the foundational work of librarians like Mills and queer authors like Michelle Tea, who started a storytime in San Francisco, a network of Drag Queen Story Hour events has sprung up across the country. Organizers are currently fundraising to compensate the performers, as well as conduct outreach and expand curriculum.

Mills has found it gratifying to see more queens and kids discovering a love of literature together. “I grew up in a library, that’s where I spent all my time,” they say. “A library was my sanctuary, it’s where I could find books that depicted queer characters.”

Drag Queen Story Hour is part of a larger effort to keep libraries current and responsive to 21st century needs. “It’s less about what’s in the building,” says Mills, “and more [about] doing things with community.”

Lil Miss Hot Mess agrees. “Libraries are spaces that are committed to ideals and diversity, and everyone being able to walk through the door and find something for them.”

Though Seattle Public Library has scaled back its drag queen events in recent months, Mills remains focused on providing services for patrons who have been historically underserved. (When we spoke, they were in the midst of helping a local drag performer with no fixed address obtain a GED.)

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